Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) by Funkmaster Flex (보컬) on maniadb.com

(Rampage)
It's Atiya, Richard of Flatbush
Speak up
The word on the street is the Rampage return
Uh

(Busta)
Hah, one time, two times, three times (no doubt), four times
All my real live soldiers throw your hands up
All my real live women throw your hands up
All my real strong bustas throw your hands up
All my real live players throw your hands up
Hah!

(Rampage)
Check it out, like this y'all
The heavyweight Brooklyn bomber that can't rest
Love success, I'm gettin money progress
Travellin for free from state to state
That's how I get my idea to create
I'm live motivate, I keep on movin, it's been FUBU
I make Def Jams like Rick Rubin
I stay on my tippy toes wreckin shows, I'm too slow
You can't peep my ill flow in this Burning Zone
Keep low like an Eskimo
Askin' people, still carry my flow, open the do'
It's the real outlaw, from Flatbush to South Shore
Givin you more and more
I just came home from tour
It's my time to burn to explore
I'm comin through the floor with Low X
I'm fully gassed to the max movin stacks, no fakin jacks
I'm the baddest man on the wax
Messin around with my Squad, you get taxed
Shittin' Ex-Lax, on hot tracks, I can't relax
Breakin' backs, with my NFL Quarterbacks
Flipmode deep we bring good things to light
Put down your gun and light
I'm in it to win it
plus I'm wildin for da night

(Busta)
All my muthaf**kas in the place to be
you feel right, throw your hands up
WE GETTIN WILD FOR DA NIGHT
Niggas in the place, if you wanna fight
Serious let's get busy cause we
WILD FOR DA NIGHT
My Flipmode niggas gettin
WILD FOR DA NIGHT
Niggas in New York gettin
WILD FOR DA NIGHT
My niggas in the West gettin
WILD FOR DA NIGHT

(feat. GangStarr)

[Funkmaster Flex scratchin]
[Redman] "Funkmaster Flex" -
[Redman] "Funkmaster Flex"
[?] "Funkmaster" [Redman] "Flex"
[Redman] "Fu-funk, fu-funk, ma-ma, ma-ma
Ma-ma, mas-master Flex"
[Guru] "Funkmaster Flex"
[Flex] "Volume-volume-volume three"

[Guru]
If I was a ballplayer, then I would dunk on ya faster
But since I'm a trackslayer, I fuck with Funkmaster
Premier lace the beat, so it can bump faster
Gurizzi, on Volume Thrizi, I gets busy
Since the days of the Quarters, Union Square, and the Castle
Been known to hold my own, if you give me a hassle
Rassle with this MC here, on the mic
Niggaz know they ain't prepared for the fight
Talk about your skills all day, I'm still bored
You disobeyed the laws, got no cause to kill for
You build your rep, off the next man's style
Played the role, and stole the page out the next man's file
You can't test, one of the best, in this art form
Ain't toleratin blatant disrespect for this art form
Whether or not I make a track to keep the charts warm
I come to do a show, pros and hoes, know it's on
From BK to Uptown, and all around
See how easy, they all fall down
While suckers go off, and show off, I throw your whole bluff off
That semi old school rapper that you grown up off
Come off the top rope, just like the Junkyard Dog
To the mat, with my ill kid form of rap
Take that, what I just spat, and then store that
Just like on a Pentium with CD-rom and all that
Fly shit, that we create, just like that
We great like that, straight like that

GangStarr, y'knowhatI'msayin?
Funkmaster Flex
Now till forever baby

[Funkmaster Flex scratchin]
[Redman] "Funkmaster Flex"
[Guru] "Funkmaster Flex"
[Nas] "Funkmaster" - ?"Flex"
[Redman] "Fu-funk, fu-funk, ma-ma, ma-ma
Ma-ma, mas-master Flex"
[Guru] "Funkmaster Flex"
[Flex] "Volume-volume-volume three"

[Flex]
Yeah, uhh, yeah, what, what

Lay ya hammer (lay ya hammer)
Lay ya hammer kid (lay ya hammer kid)
They want the drama bring it to 'em F**k 'em

Ghostface:

All rise meet the preacher this pro dueler been diagnosed
Diabetic keptic I'm your host
Lock the vanilla suede British
Staten Island mall menace
Otherwise posin' as a dentist in my lenses
Pinball machine gun rap spoke to Arafat
Laundry maid honey can't blow in this hat
What

Method Man:

Is it raw now
Change it around
It's war now
The final countdown commences
The battleground is twelve inches of wax paper
Breakin' down your defenseless senseless nature
Pain stings with 'Ma Baker
Twin towerin' I skyscrape ya
Freedom come meet your maker

Inspektah Deck:

Yo
Another sound boy's dyin'
Crowd noise multiplyin'
Don't let the fuzz slide in bust out the sirens
Sure win lure 'em in like exotic women
I smile with the sinister grin and finish him
You're f**kin' with hoods, get ya goods pushed back
Ya fraud, pull the wool off your hollywood hat

U-God:

Yo Yo Yo
The track melts in half liquors have this brave meaning
Supreme being being all that I can being
Picture wavy beavers meat cleaving your receiver
Fly sunny cheeba leather buckets dirty reefer
Fast floatin' grill residential honey hill
Stainless steel rashes sheisty catch a money bill

Raekwon:

It's all gravy
We floatin' through like the British navy
Fresh design lady love the fade keep it wavy
The mix drink - throw the dick in the drink
Play it baby girl caught ya
Exotic album Cuban Link
Custom AV's beige panties who could front on these please
Ya'll niggas broke so much your uncle sells trees

Gza:

Yo
High ranked officials and armed tanks and missles
Blood drizzle simple fact you slept on the issue
That before he started jerkin' off joysticks and Sega
I made tapes a hundred watt amps insuring Vegas
Rza fine tune it shippin' meal units
MC's ask, who be those rhyme killers in masks?
No doubt difficult task to last in the square
Beware infinte amount of darts is in the air
I'm victorious no opponents and blast through components
And microphones watch the whole world live the moment
Anything anti that came approachin' this
Incapable lust speech remains motionless

Lay ya hammer (Lay ya hammer)
Lay ya hammer kid (Lay ya hammer kid)
Lay ya hammer (Lay ya hammer)

House OF Pain - Jump Around

Pack it up, pack it in
Let me begin I came to win
Battle me that's a sin I won't tear the sack up
Punk you'd better back up
Try and play the role and the whole crew will act up
Get up, stand up, come on! Come on, throw your hands up
If you've got the feeling jump across the ceiling
Muggs is a funk fest, someone's talking junk
Yo, I'll bust em in the eye
And then I'll take the punks home
Feel it, funk it
Amps it are junking
And I got more rhymes than there's cops that are dunking
Donuts shop
Sure 'nuff I got props from the kids on the Hill
Plus my mom and my pops

Chorus
I came to get down (2x)
So get out your seats and jump around Jump around (3x)
Jump up Jump up and get down.
Jump (18x)

I'll serve your ass like John MacEnroe
If your steps up, I'm smacking the ho
Word to your moms I came to drop bombs
I got more rhymes than the bible's got psalms
And just like the Prodigal Son I've returned
Anyone stepping to me you'll get burned
Cause I got lyrics and you ain't got none
So if you come to battle bring a shotgun
But if you do you're a fool, cause I duel to the death
Try and step to me you'll take your last breath I gots the skill, come get your fill
Cause when I shoot ta give, I shoot to kill

Chorus

I'm the cream of the crop, I rise to the top
I never eat a pig cause a pig is a cop
Or better yet a terminator
Like Arnold Schwarzenegger
Try'n to play me out like as if my name was Sega
But I ain't going out like no punk bitch
Get used to one style and you know I might switch
It up up and around, then buck buck you down
Put out your head then you wake up in the
Dawn of the Dead
I'm coming to get ya, coming to get ya
Spitting out lyrics homie
I'll wet ya

Chorus

Jump (32x),